The Land of Caves and Beaches

July 25-July 28, 2012
Menorca is one of the smallest Balearic Islands and boasts a prosperous handmade shoe company and world famous gin. We stay in Ciutadella.

Hostal Paris is a bit bates motel-ish when we arrive, a son sits at the front desk and begrudgingly takes orders from his mother, the kooky hostess. Our accommodations are sufficiently equipped with a balcony, three twin beds and a sink that mysterious gurgles at random. Everything is clean and fresh towels await us, a coveted amenity when my travel towel has been washed twice throughout the duration of my last 4 weeks here (over share?).

We settle in and take some cat naps before my dive at noon with Diving Centre of Menorca. Arriving in the port, Pau, handsome, well-tanned and tastefully inked Spaniard, debriefs me on our dive. "Have you had any experience with caves?" he asks. My eyes light up. "We will be diving Canyons. " He goes on to describe our immersion, but nothing he prepares me for what I am about to experience.

Canyons is, in a word, magical. Grandiose crevasses tunneling into smaller spaces, a claustrophobic's worst nightmare. So tiny are these spaces, that we are not to flutter our fins, just wishfully grab for the next available rock to squeeze through. Truly terrifying and exhilarating as the sun glimmers down inviting me to an opening.
After an hour dive in saltwater, its time to feast, Cara and I enjoy a large plate of mussels, a seafood which we seem to have added to our list of food groups while on the islands. Next day is a beach road trip day. We burn through our first car about 15km into our drive and abandon it on the highway in exchange for a Hyundai Accent promptly given the name of Gloria Estefan.

Coasting on the open road with Beaches in mind, we get lost, REALLY lost. I blame it on the tourist map, which is about as clear as the treasure maps I would imagine pirates draw. After a few Austin Powers turn-arounds on a road meant for 0.75 cars, and some near-miss and NO-miss encounters with large SUVs, Gloria comes out without a blatantly obvious scratch. We find the beach and write a "how-to" book about relaxing: sleep, read, swim, sleep, swim and pee, walk, snorkel, sleep, end. To finish out our day Gloria rolls us to our final beach: Santandria, where we settle into Sa Nacra, a bar that has been built on a cliffside. Instead of walls surroundig the restaurant, there is a small rope fence to allow access to the wooden diving board provided for children to showcase their sickest flips while they await their meal. Crystal clear water glistens below and we watch fish swim about in anticipation of the delicious food that often comes flying down from a little hand above. Sunset here is long and gorgeous.





Tonight my dive man has guided us to La Margarete, a modern bar with a giant green lawn, lounge chairs and natural artwork. Our next stop is Jazzbah, in the port. Yes go ahead, say it out loud. We sip cocktails on the terrace and get sucked into the music emanating from the dance floor below. Elvis, Aretha Franklin, Twist, and Black Eyed Peas overflow the room. We pinch ourselves, yes we are still in Europe.

North Beach

Another day with Gloria Estefan takes us to the north coast for an amazing lunch and a hidden beach among the lush green hills. We make a quick pitstop at Cova d' en Xoroi in the southbeach to experience a bar that has been blasted out of a cliff side and takes advantage of the cavernous landscape to provide an amazing scene for worldwide partyers. We return our rental car with minutes to spare at Mahon airport and take residence at a small hostel nearby.

Cova d' en Xoroi 

San Sabastian is our next stop. The food capitol of Spain where tapas outnumber people.